Lady of the Cloth
by Cooklez
Summary: "In the dead of night, when the moon seems to howl and the trees seem to scream, a fire will illuminate in the shadows, searing its wicked schemes." OC.
1. The Blind

**A/N: This story is written in the third person perspective of an OC. It is set during season two's timeline with occasional switches in period to further develop the character's past and future. It contains foul language and minor sexual content. Be advised.  
I do not own the rights to American Horror Story or any of its affiliates.  
Story gets better as it progresses, trust me. The first few chapters are mainly filler.  
Always open to reviews. No flaming. Constructive criticism is appreciated.**

* * *

Sister Lilith patted the soft, cold hand of the dying inmate that lay upon the bed. Sister Joanna stood beside her, a look of pure disdain across her aged face.

"I'm tired of cleaning up Sister Jude's damn messes," she muttered, scowling.  
"We can't blame her, Sister. The only person we can blame is the Devil, for inflicting these poor people with such terrible curses," Sister Lilith gripped the fingers in her palm as the last pulsing heartbeat escaped the man's body.

Joanna sighed and picked up the clipboard that hung from the end of the iron frame. She jotted down a time and cause of death before snapping her fingers and exiting the infirmary.

Lilith stood; a frown spread on her lips, as two large men came and removed the man from the bed forcefully. She let a tear slip from her eye before straightening the rosary upon her neck.

_These poor souls…we're so lucky to have Sister Jude to care for them. I don't think Joanna understands that._ Lilith smiled, wiping the water from her cheek._ Perhaps I should go tell her how thankful I am for her hard work._ She grinned and headed for the stairs outside the room. They extended high up the lobby, spiraling and stopping at each floor. The black paint was smooth and glossy, the wood chiseled to perfection.

Gripping the rail as she ascended the steps, Lilith gleamed at the sight of the inmates wondering the halls, orderlies at every corner. She admired the calm, peaceful nature of the place.

The happiness fueling her excitement, she burst into Sister Jude's office. She was greeted by a small, formally dressed woman sitting before the Sister's desk, holding a notepad and pen in her hands. Jude was staring out the window, her dirty blonde hair slightly showing under her headdress. They both turned to Lilith.

"What did I tell you about knocking, Sister?" Jude snarled at her, placing her hands on her hips.

"Oh, I'm so sorry, ma'am. I didn't know you had a visitor," Lilith's face grew red. _How could I have forgotten?_

Sister Jude frowned and placed a hand to her temple, "I told Mary Eunice to report that to all of you. I'll have to discuss it with her later."

Behind Lilith, the door swung open once more as a flustered nun rushed in.

"Oh, I'm sorry Sister, I forgot," she spoke softly, turning around to try again.

Sister Jude rolled her eyes, "No, what do you want?"

Mary Eunice approached the desk in cowardice, leaning in and placing her hands beside her face to hush the words she was about to speak.

Lilith couldn't hear, though the woman made it rather obvious.

"She's talking about the killer? Bloody Face?"

Jude glared from Mary to Lana, then to Lilith.

"Will the two of you excuse us, please?" She moved a hand to gesture the Sisters from the room.

With a unison nod, the two swiftly exited the office.

"She never lets me get a chance to talk," Mary sighed, rushing down the stairs.

"Jude is just busy, Sister. What, with the woman and the serial killer," Lilith smiled frailly at Eunice.

Mary stopped and sighed, "I knew I forgot something. I never told you all about the reporter. She was probably angry at me. She thinks I'm… I'm stupid," she let out a gentle sob.

Lilith tentatively placed a hand on her back, "No, you're not stupid, Sister. Come on, we should go wait outside." Gripping her palm in her fingers gently, she led Mary down the steps and out onto the front steps. Most of the staff was already there, a lack of emotion on their faces.

"What is it you wanted to talk to Sister Jude about anyway?" Mary Eunice leaned over and spoke softly into Lilith's ear.

She shook her head, "Nothing, it was nothing." Lilith tucked a lock of bleach blonde hair back into her cowl.

Mary smiled, holding her hands together. The silence quickly got to her, and she went off to talk to Dr. Arden.

Sister Lilith fumbled with the buttons on her habit.

The soft hum of an engine alerted her attention.

The woman who was in Jude's office was standing behind her. Lilith turned to her, and noticed the L-shaped broach on her yellow plead jacket. Her notepad was shaking in her hands as the car approached.

The van stopped and two policemen got out and opened the back doors. They grabbed onto the man with force and pulled him from it. He was clearly sedated, his feet tripping up the steps. Lilith caught a second of eye contact as the officers dragged him up the stairs towards Jude. They were dark, almost black. She couldn't stop staring at them.

"Miss, your eyes, they're dilated. Are you scared?" The woman with the jacket asked her curiously.

"No, it was just… they seemed lifeless. His eyes, I mean."

"Well, a monster like that doesn't have a soul. By the way, my name is Lana. Lana Winters," she extended a hand.

Lilith shook it happily, "I'm Lilith Quentin. I'm a Sister here."

Her eyes wandered to Sister Jude leading a stumbling Kit Walker into Briarcliff.

"Well, obviously. I must say, you have very pretty eyes. They're similar to the ocean," Lana snapped Lilith back into the conversation.

Lilith contemplated this. She'd never been complimented on her eyes. They were a deep, incredibly not unique blue, though a compliment was a compliment.

"Thank you, ma'am," she grinned in response.

Lilith sighed, and began to follow in the other nuns when Lana grabbed her arm.

"Would you mind telling me more about the asylum? You efforts would be well worth it. I'll make sure to thank you in my article," the grin on her face was wicked.

The Sister furrowed her brow, "Sorry, Miss Winters, I can't do that." With a low groan, she stomped up the steps and through the doors.

_How dare she ask me to disobey Sister Jude? What an evil woman._

Lilith rolled her eyes and returned to her work in the infirmary, trying to concentrate her mind from the reporter as well as the loud screams of Kit Walker above her.


	2. Justifying Jed

"Can you believe that hussy? An exorcism? She's insane," Sister Joanna snarled as she kneaded the bread.

"Jed is possessed! That's what he needs! His poor parents…" Lilith frowned, wiping a tear from her eye. She pulled a hot tray from the large oven against the wall. Placing it hastily on the rack, she sighed.

"You're a kiss ass, Lilith," Joanna jabbed a finger at her before turning and returning to the dough.

Lilith ignored her, "Did you meet that reporter today? She seemed ignorant."

Joanna cackled, "Ignorant to what? The shit that goes on here?"

"No, to the fact we can't share information about the asylum."

"Oh, yes. I remember. Mary Eunice almost got her butt caned bloody because she let her inside. She's so dense."

Lilith groaned, "You're so mean, Sister. Consider being nicer, please."

Joanna mimicked Lilith as she arranged the dough mounds on a pan and placed it on a cart. She turned to her, causing Lilith to grimace as she caught sight of the swampy green in her eyes.

"You listen to me, and you listen to me good. You're blind, Sister. I won't tolerate your attitude," Joanna smacked Lilith hard across the cheek, smiling as she stepped past her and left.

Lilith rubbed her red skin softly, sneering.


	3. Innocent Desire

Sister Lilith retrieved the pills from the cabinet, placing them neatly in the small cup. She placed it onto the tray next to the container of water. Walking slowly over to the bed, she shook the nun's shoulder softly.

"Sister, you need to take your medicine."

Mary Eunice blinked awake, grinning up at her. Lilith couldn't make it out, but something was off about her.

"Thank you, Lilith," She downed the water and pills rapidly.

For someone who had recently fainted, her skin was surprisingly aglow, her eyes clear of any signs of bloodshot. She smiled at the Sister with pink, moist lips. She seemed healthy, too healthy.

"It's no problem, really. That's what I'm here for," Lilith gleamed back at her, collecting the cups and leaving swiftly. Being in Mary Eunice's presence made her queasy. She leaned against the counter next to the door and released a sigh. She hated working in the infirmary. All the other nuns were doing work in the bakery, so she was stuck here, alone.

"Ahem," a deep voice startled her, "where can I find Sister Mary Eunice?"

Dr. Arden loomed down at Lilith, a lack of expression on his face. She was barely 5'6", a dwarf compared to his 6'7".

"I didn't mean to startle you," He spoke calmly, looking around the room.

"No, no, I was just…"Lilith gripped her hands together tightly, "concentrating on something else. She's over there." She pointed towards Mary Eunice, whom had fallen back to sleep.

"Would you pardon us, then?" He gestured towards the door. She nodded curtly, hustling out into the lobby. Considering the lack of places for her to go, she stood near the statue and waited.

"Oh, Sister Lilith! It's so good to see you!" The Monsignor Timothy Howard yelled from the floor above. He walked hastily down the stairs to shake her hand gently, a large smirk on his face.

"I heard what happened to Sister Eunice. You must be doing a good job taking care of her. Your medical report last year was outstanding."

Lilith blushed. Timothy was always charming and caring towards her, causing a raging crush she could barely control.

"Thank you, Father. I try my best."

"Obviously you do. I wonder, did Jude introduce you to our new Dr. Thredson? He's here to diagnose Kit Walker."

Lilith slipped her hands into the pockets of her habit, "No, she hasn't. I heard about the exorcism. Is that why you're here now, to bless the room or something?"

Timothy nodded, tightening his grip on the Bible in his hand.

"I finished a while ago, actually. I got caught up talking with Frank. I was on my way out when I saw you, Sister."

The nun blushed once more, "I'd hate to hold you up then, Father."

The Monsignor smiled, "I could never be annoyed by your presence, though I must excuse myself. I bid you ado," He stepped past her and out the front doors.

Lilith's heart was left racing a hundred miles an hour.


	4. Keep Your Secrets

Sister Lilith overlooked the patients as they went about their normal routines, such as coddling dolls and dancing to the repeating record "Dominique" spinning on the player. She fumbled with her rosary, a habit she repeatedly fed.

Sister Joanna walked over to her, a smirk the size of Texas on her lips, "We're having a movie night, did you hear? Watching "The Sign of the Cross". Sometimes, that bitch surprises me to no end."

Lilith frowned and continued to toy with her beads.

"Hmph. You don't talk much, do you, Quentin?" Joanna gently bopped her on her button nose, "Can see why… you never say something of interest," The Sister smirked and walked off, leaving Lilith in a state of confusion.

"Is she always that mean to you?" Lana Winters asked from the chair near her. The nun had made it a priority to pretend she never spoke to the reporter, but it was hard. Lana was nice and kind, and surely didn't deserve the red scars on both sides of her head, or to be in this place. Lilith couldn't even see why homosexuality was a sin worth of hospitalization. Therapy, perhaps.

"Yes, though I manage. No need to worry, miss."

Lana chuckled, "I've come to expect the worst."

_Haven't we all, ma'am, haven't we all?_

* * *

"Everyone in their seats, now!" Sister Joanna bellowed at the patients still straggling to settle in for the movie. Lilith sat to her side, not at all interested in being here.

A nun sat down beside her, a wicked grin on her face, "Do you want to hear something… insane?"

Lilith hated the young Sisters who couldn't stop talking behind other people's backs. She was barely 23, and had never found an interest in it.

Though she was bored, and who knew, what they say might be rather interesting.

"Sure, Sister."

"Well, Sister Mary Eunice, whom has been acting rather odd lately, apparently tried to seduce Dr. Arden."

Lilith's eyes grew immensely wide. Mary Eunice had been strange since she had fainted, and she always got a negative energy around her, as if she was carrying something dark upon her back, something that was eating away at her.

"Really? Where'd you hear that from?" Lilith had an ample amount of doubt to whether or not she could trust the nun, though the way she said it made it seem to be true.

"Mary told me herself. I think Shelley's wearing off on her. To be honest, I'm not surprised. Nobody can stay that innocent," The Sister smirked, turning to the other nun whom had joined their row. They dove into the same conversation, though the new woman's response was of laughter and not question.

"You just don't fit in, blondie," Joanna flopped into her seat, folding her arms. "You have as much charisma as a broke musician. The only thing you can rely on is that pretty little face of yours. If you weren't of the cloth, you'd be a proper housewife."

Lilith furrowed her brow as the final staff and patients found their places and Frank prepared to roll the tape. Sister Mary Eunice maneuvered her way to the front row, appearing unfazed by the whispers from the young nuns. She just smiled and got ready to watch the movie, sitting like a loose prostitute and letting her blond hair fall gently from her cowl to her shoulders. She looked positively rustled.

Just then, Sister Jude stumbled into the room, almost slobbering onto her habit. Slurring, she tried to introduce Briarcliff's first inaugural movie night, though it came out butchered.

She was drunk.

Joanna placed her hands over her mouth as she tried to silence her laughter. Frank started the tape, pulling Jude away to tell her a hushed secret. After humming a tune Lilith did not know, she left, stumbling. The inmates were suddenly distracted from her by the movie, as well as the employees. All except Sister Joanna.

"We all saw that coming didn't we?" She leaned over and whispered into Lilith's ear.

She couldn't bear but chuckled slightly. Everyone knew Jude would eventually fall off the wagon, though never on such an important night.

"Well, let's hope she's okay," Lilith said softly, concentrating on the movie.


	5. Locked Away

An hour or two had passed when Sister Mary Eunice stood in a huff and stormed out of the room.

Lilith focused on this instead of the Christians on screen being devoured by crocodiles, a sight that made her ill.

A few moments had gone by with Jude entered and stopped the tape.

She rambled on about how there would be no more entertainment nights due to the escape of a pinhead, a Mexican, and a sex-crazed deviant. Oddly, however, as Lilith listened and looked towards her superior, she noticed that Lana Winters, Kit Walker, and the French girl, whose name escaped her mind, were dripping wet.

It was then she realized they had tried to escape, yet the blame had been placed elsewhere on account of how absent-minded Jude was when she was wasted.

Lilith had to act, though it was revealing itself hard to decide which side to choose.

* * *

Lilith Quentin had never been very social. Her Catholic parents drove a thick religious stake into her very young, and, with their moral beliefs, chose to home school her. This left Lilith exiled from having any sort of childhood experiences.

She could remember sitting in her room, watching the kids outside ride their bikes and jump rope. Sometimes, she'd press her hand to the window and feel the heat, the warmth from the sun she rarely saw, spread through her fingers. It felt so good, so desirable, that she occasionally had thoughts of escaping that house.

Her parents were strict when it came to her upbringing. She was to stay in her room unless invited out for lessons or to eat a meal. They fed her a tedious diet of vegetables and other greens. If it was a holiday, she got meat. If it was a Friday, she got fish.

She was occasionally visited by family, but nobody seemed to notice how lonely she was. At night, she'd kneel at her bed and pray, long and hard, for better days. For time outside… for companions.

When she turned sixteen, her parents ordered her to their car. She didn't know where they were going, but the look on their faces explained that it wasn't going to be pleasant for either of them.

They drove for what seemed like hours before the car pulled into a large series of buildings. For a moment, Lilith thought it was a school, and that she was finally going to be able to make friends.

But then she looked closely. At the entrance stood a large statue of Jesus Christ, and around it walked woman clad in black.

They were wearing habits.

It was then Lilith realized she was at a nunnery. Her parents, whom she always had thought loved her, were dropping her here.

She begged and pleaded, shouted even, though their minds were made up. Her father pulled her roughly from the car and out onto the hot pavement. The sun shone in her eyes, blinding her. She closed them tightly, holding an arm up to block the rays. She hoped a hand would help her up, but she only felt the cold gust of wind as the car pulled away forever.

* * *

Lilith stood rapidly, rushing over to Sister Jude.

"Shouldn't we get the guards to look for them, Sister?" she whispered in her ear.

Jude nodded, turning to Frank, "Get after them."

He did as he was told, rounding up the orderlies and commanding them to search the institution thoroughly. They all left in a worried pace, Jude on their heels.

Lilith looked over at the three wet inmates and smiled. Kit and the French girl furrowed their brows in confusion, though Lana mouthed a silent thank you.

She couldn't tell if what she had done was holy, though it felt good to have saved at least Miss Winters from more lashings.

* * *

Lilith sat in a chair next to the window in the common room. The rain beat hard on the pane, causing a relaxing thumping to drift her away into a dream state.

"I wanted to thank you for what you did for me," a voice spoke from behind her.

Lana Winters gleamed down at her. Lilith wasn't quite sure how she had got passed the guards, but she was happy to see her, none the less.

"Why'd you come back?" She asked, murmuring. They had the perfect chance to escape, yet they had returned.

Lana ran a hand up her arm, standing ridged, "There was something out there. It wasn't human, and it was eating… it was eating the Mexican woman. There might have been more of the creatures, though we didn't stay long enough to see."

Lilith couldn't believe it. Creatures eating a patient? What blasphemy.

"Well, you look like you could use some sleep. I'll get you some fresh clothes and meet you in your room," she pretended not to react to what Lana had told her. She didn't want to think one of the only sane people in here was going crazy.

Lana frowned, yet she didn't want to risk disobeying one of the Sisters. She turned and left the room slowly.

Lilith sighed, going the other way to fetch some dry attire for Miss Winters before the staff suspected something suspicious.

There was a worry in her mind, a soft whisper, that maybe, just possibly, the patient was telling the truth.


	6. Meeting a Memory

"Name?" The Mother Superior behind the smooth pine desk asked, a pen hovering over several pages of required forms.

"Lilith Maria Quentin," Lilith bit her nails anxiously. This place was unfamiliar. The walls were white with molded lining around the top. Bookshelves ran down one wall, breaking in the middle to reveal two red sitting chairs staring out into the crisp green grass of the nunnery. She could see the other girls, conversing and having a silent prayer.

"There's no need to worry, Miss Quentin. We're all God's children here," Mother Claudia spoke sweetly. Lilith nodded.

Claudia took a good look at her before jotting more down.

"Date of birth?"

Lilith thought for a moment, "November 6th, 1941."

The Superior wrote down something again, and then several other things before returning her eyes to Lilith's gaze.

"Welcome to the Catholic Church of Massachusetts, Sister Lilith Maria Quentin. I'll ask Sister Jillian to escort you to your room."

Claudia pressed a button on the phone upon her desk, calling the other nun into the room. Jillian appeared with a huge grin on her face, holding out a hand to greet Lilith. She had long, brown bangs hanging from her headdress, and deep brown eyes that were oddly calming. Lilith took her palm in hers, shaking it tenderly.

"Oh, it's so nice to meet you! I love teaching the new Sisters! Ah, we're going to have a blast!"

Mother Claudia sighed, "Jillian, calm down. Let Sister Lilith become relaxed in her new home."

"Yes, Mother. Come on," She pulled Lilith onto her feet and nearly dragged her out of the room. The hall had white walls, just like the Superior's office. In fact, they were exactly the same. The floor was a smooth marble, causing them both to skid a little.

"Sister, could you please let go of me," Lilith begged, holding her place.

Jillian blushed, "Oh, yes, I'm sorry. Just, follow me."

She led her out onto the lawn. Lilith froze on the spot, letting the sun warm her milky skin. She almost collapsed in pure enjoyment, though she had her wits about her. She continued to follow Jillian to another building across the way.

They stopped outside the doors, "What's your room number?" The Sister asked Lilith.

"145, I think."

A large smile spread across Jillian's cheeks, "That's my room! We'll be roommates!" She flung open the doors excitedly, climbing the stairs faster than Lilith could.

They passed about three floors before getting off on the fourth and running down the hallway. When Jillian finally stopped, Lilith held her chest, trying to breath.

"Here we are, home sweet home," She opened the door swiftly.

The bedroom was painted a soft blue, with off-white curtains to contrast it. Two beds sat on each side of the room with clean, silk covers the color of egg upon them. A door stood to the left of the entrance, which Lilith resumed led to the bathroom. Sliding glass stood to the right, which must be the closet.

Several crosses hung around the room of many different sizes and shapes. The largest one was positioned over the pine desk that was in front of the open window. A small bird landed on the sill, chirping at her.

"It's lovely," Lilith said, smiling.

"Your habit is in the closet. Tell me if you need it adjusted," Jillian flopped down onto her bed, straightening her rosary.

"Will do."

* * *

Lilith sat in the kitchen, making sure the patients didn't burn the rolls. She preferred to be hands on, and sitting here, doing nothing, was getting to her.

"I talked to that Anne Frank woman earlier. She's batshit," Joanna muttered, leaning against the wall.

Lilith nodded. She had seen a lot of insanity here, but that took the cake. She even had a series of numbers on her arm. She truly played the part.

"Did they ever find the missing inmates?" Sister Joanna asked, turning off one of the ovens.

"No. They're still gone. Jude says we shouldn't worry about it," Lilith drummed her fingers on the table, her patience running low.

"She's right. There's no reason to worry," Sister Mary Eunice stepped through the kitchen doors, appearing like a shadow.

Lilith gave her a confused look before tucking her hair back into her cowl. There were so many reasons to worry. What if the patients had been hurt?

"I want to talk with you, Lilith. Follow me," Mary Eunice smiled, and exited the room. Lilith furrowed her brow, but paced after her. They walked for a while before coming to a halt near the door leading to the so called "Death Chute".

"You're very smart, Sister, and nobody is denying it. When I take over this shithole, I'm going to need a right-hand, and you'll do wonderfully," The nun grinned widely, a very frightening grin that sent a cold shock down Lilith's spine. This wasn't Mary's normal behavior by any means.

"Take over Briarcliff? What about Jude?"

She laughed, "That old bitch isn't going to be here for long, trust me. Now, come on. I want to show you something." She grabbed hold of a bucket on the floor. The contents smelled of blood and meat, and caused Lilith to gag.

Pulling open the large, heavy door, the two of them slipped into the chute. Eventually, they reached the exit, and escaped into the humid, hot air.

"What's that?" Lilith pointed towards the bucket, pulling her habit over her mouth.

The Sister just smirked at her and walked into the woods. There, at the center, was a clearing. Mary began to throw the meat onto the ground.

The bushes rustled and twigs snapped.

Something emerged from the foliage. It looked human, though it clearly wasn't. Its face was beaten and red, its whole body covered in huge, pulsing boils. Its clothes were torn to shreds, yet Lilith could tell they were from the institution.

The creature began to ravage the food, ripping at it with serrated teeth.

"Are those… are those patients?" Lilith was going to be sick. How long had Sister Mary known about this? Had she done this herself?

No. No, of course not. This was someone else's work.

Several more began to step forth and attack their new meal.

"Aren't they lovely? They'll only eat human meat though, but it's not like the people we feed to them have much to live for anyway."

Lilith backed away slowly, "Did you do this?"

"No, Sister. Dr. Arden did. I don't know what he injected into them, I just know it's fun to watch them devour their meat."

"This is sick."

Mary turned and started walking towards Lilith, though at the last moment, she passed her.

"You won't want to stay out here with them. Sometimes… they don't believe they get enough to eat."

Lilith stood in awe for a moment, staring at the monsters chew through the last of their fill.

Terrified, she ran after the other nun.

* * *

"Is that your natural color?" Jillian helped Lilith get her hair into a proper bun.

"Yes. It used to be honey, but the lack of sun I got faded it."

"I like it. It suits you and your porcelain complexion."

Lilith blushed. She'd never been complimented before.

"Thank you."

Jillian smiled, fitting the last of her strands into the headdress, "You probably got all the boys, didn't you? They always called me ugly."

Lilith frowned. She'd never even talked to a boy, let alone had relations with him. She took a long, hard look at Jillian. She was slightly pudgy, with tilted eyes and tiny, tight lips. Lilith thought she was cute, but not pretty. She wasn't going to tell her that, though.

"I was never let outside, actually. I've never even held a conversation with a man. No use now, anyway. I'm of the cloth."

Jillian nodded, backing away. Lilith looked at herself in the mirror. The habit fit perfectly. It managed to cover up her skin, but still accentuate her curves. She smiled.

"Oh, I forgot. Here," The other nun held out a beaded necklace. She drew it around Lilith's neck, clipping it in the back. The cross on the front was mahogany, which complimented the blue of her eyes.

"I love it."

"Me too."

* * *

The air nipped at her nose, wind searing her skin. It was freezing. Above, the moon was full, causing small rays of light to press through the trees.

"Ah, there you are," Sister Mary Eunice stepped through the branches, a lantern in her hand. She smiled at Lilith, an eerie smile that wasn't quite normal.

"Why'd you want to meet me, Sister? I haven't made up my mind yet."

Earlier in the day, after the two nuns had returned to the asylum, Mary asked Lilith if she would like to be part of a union. All she'd have to do was feed the "Raspers", as she called them. Of course, Lilith had no interest in participating, but the Sister scared her deeply, so she was putting it off.

"No, this isn't about that. Tell me, Sister, have you ever danced with the Devil in the pale moonlight?" Mary Eunice smirked ear to ear, then lunged forward, grasping onto Lilith's icy hands.

She began to lead her along the trail, twisting and turning and making her rather sick. Lilith made the mistake of looking into the nun's eyes, which were the color of fire. A blazing fire that reminded her of Hell.

_She's possessed._

Lilith tried to pull away, but to no avail. She began to feel her body go numb, a certain tingle that both warmed and chilled. Slowly, her lights went out, and the last thing she saw was the moon, almost burning in the sky.


	7. Dancing with the Devil

Lilith shot up, her head beating like a drum.

She grimaced at the pain of it, but then it was gone. She didn't feeling anything.

Absolutely nothing.

There was nothing there.

All she remembered was the moon. The full moon. The scorching moon.

"Well, it took you long enough," Sister Mary Eunice pressed a cold, wet cloth to her head roughly. "How does it feel? Like an abyss, dark and bottomless?"

Lilith nodded.

"You'll get used to it."

Lilith tried to speak, but something held her back. Something was controlling her from within.

"Explain what you did to me," She demanded violently.

Mary Eunice laughed, "I called upon a friend, per say, to inhabit you for the time being. Hell, he may not even want to leave. Whatever the outcome, you're going to help me, because he's here now. In you." She jabbed a finger into Lilith's chest.

The nun relaxed onto the bed, "What am I supposed to do?"

Mary smiled at her. It was sweeter than before, but not sincere. Never sincere, "It's simple, really. You will follow all the rules I place before you, and preform all the tasks I require."

Lilith furrowed her brow, "Now, hold on. I get some puny demon and you get the Devil? Can you say short end of the stick, Sister?"

Mary Eunice giggled wickedly, "You're not as limited as you think. Now, meet me in the kitchen at about nine." She stood from her bedside and swiftly exited the room.

There was a lack of warmth. Lilith rubbed her shoulders, trying to bring her body heat up, but it was to no avail. The demon, slowly, achingly, crept around her body, her mind, pressing its cold fingers to her skin, dragging its claws along her bones.

* * *

The kitchen was cold and empty, with tiny streaks of moonlight pressing through the window on the wall. Lilith stared out it, grimacing at the shocks of pain caused by the creature inside her. She didn't feel herself. She felt sadistic, evil, and maybe even promiscuous. Yes, promiscuous.

The door banged shut behind her.

Sister Mary Eunice stood in the doorway, a hand grasping Dr. Arden's arm.

"What is she doing here?" he asked in a monotone voice.

"She's going to help us with the Raspers, Arthur. That's the only reason I've dragged you all this way."

Dr. Arden pulled his arm away, "We don't need help."

Something in Lilith wanted to scream at him. Some sort of urge; a fierce shove towards a staccato of hatred.

But she didn't yell, she spoke, very softly, "I think you need a lot more help than you think, Hans."

Sister Mary Eunice cackled, "I knew that Anne Frank doppelganger was right. Wow, a Nazi? Well aren't you impressive."

Arden pointed a finger at the Sister, "I'm done with you." He turned on his heel and stormed out the door.

"Is he always like that?" Lilith asked.

Mary rubbed her cheek, "Last time was a lot more violent, so no."

The two stood in silence for a moment, enjoying the tender bliss of the quiet.

"How'd you know he was a Nazi?" Eunice asked, staring from her blue eyes to Lilith's, "Even I was vacant of that knowledge."

She thought for a moment, "I'm not… not entirely sure." Her voice went deeper, cracking, "But it was the right thing to say."

For a single second, Lilith's eyes flashed the color of fire, a pure, toxic fire that could have caused anyone looking in them to burn away, fall to the ground as ash.

Then it was gone, and the silence was back.

"I was hoping for you to get a little bit more information on our grungy little friends out there," Mary titled her head to the window, "but since he's being an ignorant ass, we'll have to save it for another time. You're excused." The nun took a seat softly, closing her eyes and folding her hands together. Not in prayer, but in thought.

There was no prayer left in Sister Mary Eunice. There was only a morsel of a pure entity, a single speck of something that had once been so good.

Lilith wondered how it felt, to be gone like that. To have everything that made you feel safe stripped away from you, ripped up, and mutilated.

_You'll know eventually._

* * *

The quad in the center of the convent was calm and serene. It pulled her way from her memories and thoughts, trapping her in a dream.

"You're new, aren't you?" A woman wearing a very neat, long habit stood before her, blocking the warming sun from her skin. Her hair was a dull, undistinguished gray that contrasted heavily with her deep, mossy eyes.

Lilith smiled, "Yes, I'm Lilith Quentin, nice to meet you." She stood, extending a hand.

"Joanna Masterson," She furrowed her brow, staring intently at the young nun. "You're just a little baby, aren't you? You don't look a day over ten."

Lilith pondered this statement. She was entirely sure if it was a compliment or a criticism, but she replied anyway, "Thank you."

"No, don't thank me; thank our Lord for giving you that face. You're like one of those birds from Vermont, aren't you? A pretty little talking bird, repeating all the pretty little words they taught you to recite."

Joanna glared at Lilith in contempt, folding her arms roughly. The Sister was not used to such hate. Her parents were distant to her, but never spiteful. Maybe Joanna was envious. She was old and still in the nunnery, probably a lonely, decrepit soul.

She just smiled, "I don't think I've ever been compared to a bird miss, but I do love them, so again, thank you."

The elder nun mumbled a mimic before taking one last look at Lilith and walking away.

"You won't last more than a week," She spoke; just loud enough for the Sister to hear.

* * *

"I hear you met our dear, sweet Sister Joanna. Sure is lovely, isn't she?" Jillian giggled, drying her hair from the bath.

Lilith shrugged, closing the Bible in her hands, "I think she's just unhappy, that's all. Maybe she's been a nun for all her life."

The Sister froze, "Are you implying one day… you'll…you'll renounce you vows?"

"Perhaps. Maybe some charming lad will come and lift me off my feet, our love-struck eyes illuminated by the sun we're riding into. The music will play and everyone will stand and clap. At least, that's how it happens on the silver screen."

Jillian pursed her thin lips, returning to the bathroom to put on her nightgown. Lillian sat the book on the end table, turning off her light and snuggling into the abyss of sheets and pillows upon her bed. The sweet hum of the heater by the window brought a level of comfort she could not describe. It eclipsed her, body and soul, making her one with her thoughts.


	8. No Pity for the Damned

Lilith shot up, her head beating like a drum.

She grimaced at the pain of it, but then it was gone. She didn't feeling anything.

Absolutely nothing.

There was nothing there.

All she remembered was the moon. The full moon. The scorching moon.

"Well, it took you long enough," Sister Mary Eunice pressed a cold, wet cloth to her head roughly. "How does it feel? Like an abyss, dark and bottomless?"

Lilith nodded.

"You'll get used to it."

Lilith tried to speak, but something held her back. Something was controlling her from within.

"Explain what you did to me," She demanded violently.

Mary Eunice laughed, "I called upon a friend, per say, to inhabit you for the time being. Hell, he may not even want to leave. Whatever the outcome, you're going to help me, because he's here now. In you." She jabbed a finger into Lilith's chest.

The nun relaxed onto the bed, "What am I supposed to do?"

Mary smiled at her. It was sweeter than before, but not sincere. Never sincere, "It's simple, really. You will follow all the rules I place before you, and preform all the tasks I require."

Lilith furrowed her brow, "Now, hold on. I get some puny demon and you get the Devil? Can you say short end of the stick, Sister?"

Mary Eunice giggled wickedly, "You're not as limited as you think. Now, meet me in the kitchen at about nine." She stood from her bedside and swiftly exited the room.

There was a lack of warmth. Lilith rubbed her shoulders, trying to bring her body heat up, but it was to no avail. The demon, slowly, achingly, crept around her body, her mind, pressing its cold fingers to her skin, dragging its claws along her bones.

* * *

The kitchen was cold and empty, with tiny streaks of moonlight pressing through the window on the wall. Lilith stared out it, grimacing at the shocks of pain caused by the creature inside her. She didn't feel herself. She felt sadistic, evil, and maybe even promiscuous. Yes, promiscuous.

The door banged shut behind her.

Sister Mary Eunice stood in the doorway, a hand grasping Dr. Arden's arm.

"What is she doing here?" he asked in a monotone voice.

"She's going to help us with the Raspers, Arthur. That's the only reason I've dragged you all this way."

Dr. Arden pulled his arm away, "We don't need help."

Something in Lilith wanted to scream at him. Some sort of urge; a fierce shove towards a staccato of hatred.

But she didn't yell, she spoke, very softly, "I think you need a lot more help than you think, Hans."

Sister Mary Eunice cackled, "I knew that Anne Frank doppelganger was right. Wow, a Nazi? Well aren't you impressive."

Arden pointed a finger at the Sister, "I'm done with you." He turned on his heel and stormed out the door.

"Is he always like that?" Lilith asked.

Mary rubbed her cheek, "Last time was a lot more violent, so no."

The two stood in silence for a moment, enjoying the tender bliss of the quiet.

"How'd you know he was a Nazi?" Eunice asked, staring from her blue eyes to Lilith's, "Even I was vacant of that knowledge."

She thought for a moment, "I'm not… not entirely sure." Her voice went deeper, cracking, "But it was the right thing to say."

For a single second, Lilith's eyes flashed the color of fire, a pure, toxic fire that could have caused anyone looking in them to burn away, fall to the ground as ash.

Then it was gone, and the silence was back.

"I was hoping for you to get a little bit more information on our grungy little friends out there," Mary titled her head to the window, "but since he's being an ignorant ass, we'll have to save it for another time. You're excused." The nun took a seat softly, closing her eyes and folding her hands together. Not in prayer, but in thought.

There was no prayer left in Sister Mary Eunice. There was only a morsel of a pure entity, a single speck of something that had once been so good.

Lilith wondered how it felt, to be gone like that. To have everything that made you feel safe stripped away from you, ripped up, and mutilated.

_You'll know eventually._

* * *

The quad in the center of the convent was calm and serene. It pulled her way from her memories and thoughts, trapping her in a dream.

"You're new, aren't you?" A woman wearing a very neat, long habit stood before her, blocking the warming sun from her skin. Her hair was a dull, undistinguished gray that contrasted heavily with her deep, mossy eyes.

Lilith smiled, "Yes, I'm Lilith Quentin, nice to meet you." She stood, extending a hand.

"Joanna Masterson," She furrowed her brow, staring intently at the young nun. "You're just a little baby, aren't you? You don't look a day over ten."

Lilith pondered this statement. She was entirely sure if it was a compliment or a criticism, but she replied anyway, "Thank you."

"No, don't thank me; thank our Lord for giving you that face. You're like one of those birds from Vermont, aren't you? A pretty little talking bird, repeating all the pretty little words they taught you to recite."

Joanna glared at Lilith in contempt, folding her arms roughly. The Sister was not used to such hate. Her parents were distant to her, but never spiteful. Maybe Joanna was envious. She was old and still in the nunnery, probably a lonely, decrepit soul.

She just smiled, "I don't think I've ever been compared to a bird miss, but I do love them, so again, thank you."

The elder nun mumbled a mimic before taking one last look at Lilith and walking away.

"You won't last more than a week," She spoke; just loud enough for the Sister to hear.

* * *

"I hear you met our dear, sweet Sister Joanna. Sure is lovely, isn't she?" Jillian giggled, drying her hair from the bath.

Lilith shrugged, closing the Bible in her hands, "I think she's just unhappy, that's all. Maybe she's been a nun for all her life."

The Sister froze, "Are you implying one day… you'll…you'll renounce you vows?"

"Perhaps. Maybe some charming lad will come and lift me off my feet, our love-struck eyes illuminated by the sun we're riding into. The music will play and everyone will stand and clap. At least, that's how it happens on the silver screen."

Jillian pursed her thin lips, returning to the bathroom to put on her nightgown. Lillian sat the book on the end table, turning off her light and snuggling into the abyss of sheets and pillows upon her bed. The sweet hum of the heater by the window brought a level of comfort she could not describe. It eclipsed her, body and soul, making her one with her thoughts.


	9. The Bloodied Frame

Sister Lilith stood in the empty, fire-lit kitchen, chopping vegetables beside Mary Eunice as they spoke to Jenny Reynolds, the young, dark-haired girl whom had found murder to be an excellent form of release.

Mary had just finished her recollection of why she was a nun, though she laughed at the end, no longer swimming in her own self-pity.

Lilith was about to speak, to perhaps tell her own story, but she didn't. She listened as the two conversed without interruption until there was no more left to talk about.

* * *

Lilith stood outside Sister Jude's old office, a hand ready to knock. She waited for the talking inside to stop before rapping the door with her knuckles.

"Come in," came a soft, melodic voice that sounded much happier than any previous time it had spoken. She turned the knob and stepped inside.

"I wasn't quite expecting company," Sister Mary Eunice sat on the desk, a phone in her hand. Her wavy blond hair fell messily to her shoulders, the straps of her red negligee failing to stay on her arms.

Lilith wasn't sure what she felt, so she just stood there, forgetting whatever question she'd wanted to ask on account of Mary's awe-inspiring beauty.

She laughed, "Oh, right. This was Jude's. Thought it might be fun to try it on, don't you think?" The nun slid off the desk gracefully, smiling at the other Sister sweetly.

"It's very becoming on you," Lilith said, a large lump in her throat.

Mary stepped closer to her, close enough to reach out an arm to caress the nun's cheek with her porcelain fingers, "I think you'd look becoming on me too."

And then their lips met, but for only a moment, only a second in time that Lilith hoped would last for days, months, years, or even centuries, but it didn't. It ended as quickly as it had begun.

"Meet me outside. We need to take care of some business," and with that, Eunice escorted her out of the room, shutting the door softly in her face.

* * *

Lilith sat the bag down on the desk, collapsing into the chair. In the bathroom behind her, Sister Mary Eunice washed the blood from her hands as Sam Goodman withered on the tile floor in shock.

She frowned, "How long does it take one to buy whisky and a straight-edge blade?"

Lilith rolled her eyes, arranging the items in a specific manner, "I'm wearing a habit. It's not exactly the best attire to have on when buying alcohol. I had to lie and say I was going to a costume party."

Mary laughed, walking into the room and stopping at the dresser. She began to sift through Mr. Goodman's many folders, retrieving the one with Arden's information and pushing the rest into the garbage bin.

"We're done."

Lilith shook her head and removed something else from the bag. It was a newspaper from 1949, the front cover article pertaining to a hit-and-run case that was never solved. She smiled, and began slicing at it with the razor.

"What are you do-Oh, I see," Sister Mary stood still, marveling at the other nun's genius.

Lilith finished, searching the desk for tape. When she found some, she stuck the article directly on the television screen, turning it to white noise.

"Get me some blood," she demanded, Eunice hastily rushed to retrieve some, dabbing it up with her finger.

"Write "murderer" over it."

Mary did so, rubbing the remaining red taint onto her habit.

Lilith smiled at her handiwork, standing and grabbing the bag.

"Let's go. We can't stay for too long, or we'll meet up with Jude."

Eunice nodded, checking to make sure she had everything she needed. Papers, pictures, ledgers, the whole deal.

"Good?" Lilith asked, her hand on the doorknob.

"Good."


	10. A Kiss in the Moonlight

The years at the convent flew by rapidly, and Lilith was pleasantly surprised when she awoke to Jillian holding a bouquet of white lilies and a chocolate cupcake.

"Happy 21st birthday!" she nearly dropped the items in her hands as she leaned over and hugged Lilith tightly.

She smiled, "Thank you. If you hadn't remembered, it would have skipped my mind."

Jillian held her tighter, nearly ridding her of her air. Lilith had never felt this sort of bond before, one of friendship and love. Not romantic love, but the kind of love you reserve for people who care about you deeply in a companion sort of way.

"Did you make this yourself?" Lilith asked, pulling away and grabbing the tiny cake. She ran her finger along the frosted icing, slipping it into her mouth and sighing in indulgence.

"I did, in fact, though the flowers are from Mother Claudia. I'll go put them in a vase," Jillian stood, walking slowly to the bathroom.

She said something, but Lilith couldn't make it out over the faucet water running from the tap. She thought, if it were truly important, Jillian would repeat it.

She never did.

* * *

Lilith sat in a chair beside Grace, running a cold cloth along her head. Her fever was still blazing, and the entire staff was worried she would certainly die.

"No, not on my watch," Lilith said to no one in particular, "I'll have you better within the week."

She knew that wasn't true. Deep down in her heart, or at least what was still left of it, she knew she couldn't fix Grace. She'd get Dr. Arden to fix the patient for her, because frankly, Lilith simply didn't have the power to do that. Killing things? Yes. Healing them? Not a chance.

_Arthur would want to repair her anyway, if only to fix his careless mistake._

Lilith placed the rag into the bedpan, releasing a sigh as she gazed out the window.

The moments her innocence was most clear was when she was staring at the moon. Her soul got a chance to fight harder, but it never worked. The demon within had grown strong, too strong, and it was only ticks of the clock before there was nothing left in her being.

Lilith rejoiced in the fond memories she could muster, reliving them to their full extent. She didn't want to leave this feeling, this place in her head where there wasn't malice or pain or malevolence, just serenity.

And for the first time in a long time, she smiled a smile that wasn't filled with sadistic intentions or villainous plotting, but happiness. A pure and true happiness that spread through her like warm, musky summer air.

She missed that feeling.

* * *

Lilith stayed looking at that moon for what seemed like hours before the patter of shoes brought her back into the real world, and into the creature's clawed grasp.

"Hello?" she asked, cautious.

Timothy Howard appeared from behind the divider, a furrow in his brow, "Sister, it's late, why aren't you in bed?"

Lilith shrugged, "I was distracted by how beautiful the moon is."

She stared at it again, wishing, longing for the day when an object in the Earth's continuous orbit didn't have to be her only escape.

Timothy stepped behind her, placing a hand on the back of her chair, "It is quite marvelous, yes."

Lilith turned, smiling at him with a real smile, or as real as she could manage, and grasped his warm hand in hers.

Slowly, she brought her fingers to his cheek, drawing them up and down, making him shiver.

"Kiss me," Lilith murmured ever so softly.

Timothy froze for a moment before leaning in and touching his lips to hers. His radiating heat warmed her, but not with the warmth the demon wanted, but a holy, joyous warmth that, if anything, angered the monster.

She pulled away, tears in her ocean eyes. She gained strength from their moment of contact, just enough to say what she needed, "Timothy, there's something evil within me. It's hard to live with. The cold, I mean. It hurts. The… the demon, it… it doesn't care. It's killing me. I'm dying."

But then Lilith stopped crying, and the sadness and desire in her ocean eyes was replaced with a scorching inferno that made Timothy jump back, landing hard on the ground.

Her soul wanted to say sorry, to help him up, and to even tell him that he could save her. To please save her, but the demon said run, so she ran. She ran out of the infirmary and through the front doors and into the dark sea of trees surrounding the asylum. She ran until her legs wore down and her lungs grew sore. It was then she stopped and collapsed upon the cold, moist leaves, trying to intake breath.

It was on that wet ground that her soul forgot to fight, and the demon hit her so hard the world around her went black.


	11. Rejecting Reality

Lilith closed her bedroom door behind her, falling against it in excitement. She wanted to scream with pure jubilation, shaking with anticipation.

Jillian looked at her warily from her bed, "What's wrong with you?"

She smiled, running for the nun and hugging her tightly, "I got a job! A job, Jillian, a job! Well, not really a job, but I was appointed!"

Jillian patted her back, frowning, "For the Briarcliff opening?"

Lilith pulled back, nodding eagerly. She had never been so ecstatic in her life.

As the feeling wore down, she noticed the look of sadness in Jillian's big, brown eyes. She had forgotten how much she had wanted this position, and now she had no chance.

She smiled sincerely, holding her again, "I'm sorry. I know how much you wanted this," Lilith grinned into her ear, "but at least you won't have to see Joanna."

They both laughed at this. Sister Joanna Masterson had left the convent to work at the institution two years prior.

"Can't say I miss her," Jillian said, detaching from Lilith and falling onto her mattress. The other Sister fell beside her.

"Will you miss me?" Lilith asked, worried that her only friend in the world might let the memories of her disappear.

Though to Jillian, that seemed impossible. Slowly, she grasped the nun's hand in hers, "Of course not."

She was afraid Lilith would yank away her arm in disgust, but she didn't. They laid on that bed for what seemed like an eternity before Jillian spoke in a soft whisper, "I love you."

The crickets outside the open window chirped eagerly, the trees shaking in the summer wind. If nature was not creating an orchestra, the room would have been silent, for Lilith could not speak.

More than that, however, she was confused. She loved Jillian in a friendly way. She cared for her deeply, and she wanted to always be there for her. But she didn't romantically love her. She didn't lust after her, or desire her in any way, shape, or form.

The whole situation felt wrong, "I have to, um," Lilith swung her legs over the edge of the mattress, standing, "go." She ran for the door, turning her eyes back only once to meet Jillian's saddened gaze as tears streamed from her eyes like a broken faucet.

Nothing hurt Lilith's heart more.

* * *

The large beating that was originating from her chest startled Lilith even before she awoke to the sunlight shining in through the windows. It was a warm day, one particularly odd for winter, but no one was complaining. They were out enjoying it, picnicking with their families and playing sports.

Lilith was not, even today, on her afternoon off. She was lying in the infirmary, breathing heavily. It felt like she was burning from within, sweat dripping from her body and soaking the linens.

She turned her head, which felt like a hammer smashing into her skull. On the table beside her were a dozen roses and rosary, polished and smoothed. Lilith reached out an arm slowly, gripping it tightly in her fingers.

_Stop._

_No. No, don't. Hold tighter._

The voices were so differentiated in sound that it was almost impossible to hear the latter one over the booming, scratching shouting of the first, but Lilith did hear it, and she continued.

The demon was shaking inside her, withering with pain. It had been so close, so very close to devouring the last of her soul, and now a single string of holy beads were making it stronger.

The innocence was almost as powerful as it ever was when a heavy force threw Lilith onto her back.

Sister Mary Eunice glared at her, "What are you doing?"

_You were so close._

_Your mediocre advance did nothing to weaken me._

Lilith held her breath, "I was just looking at Timothy's gifts."

Mary walked over to her bedside, retrieving the rosary from the table. She grimaced slightly, but shoved it roughly into her habit's pocket.

"You will not touch this. Do you hear me?"

Lilith leaned back out of shock, nodding helplessly.

"Good," Eunice smiled, one that could have fooled anyone, but not Lilith. She could see the empty darkness in her eyes, the lack of emotion and rabid despair.

She turned and scampered out of the infirmary like a mouse, and in that moment, Lilith was reminded of the old Sister Mary Eunice, the one so naive and clean that she practically shone with holy light.

Now she was just foul.

* * *

"Sister?" the Monsignor spoke in a sweet whisper, brushing a strand of blonde hair from Lilith's pale face.

She opened her eyes, gleaming at Timothy who sat on the edge of her bed, his palm still frozen on her cheek.

"How long have I been out, Father?" she asked, yawning.

The sun no longer shone in the windows, but now the moonlight.

"Most of the day. Nobody would tell me what had happened to you."

Lilith drew his hand from her skin, gripping it in hers, "It's no worry, Monsignor. I just had a little fainting spell, that's all."

He nodded, lowering his head. He looked sad, almost in pain. She slowly raised her fingers, running them through his hair.

"Are you okay?"

"No, Sister, I'm not. Grace was back, healthy, and then she died. I'm just…tired of these poor souls coming to such atrocious ends," a small tear slipped from his eye.

Lilith pulled him into her chest, holding his head to her bosom, soothing him with the beating of her partially benevolent heart.

"It's going to be okay."

Timothy just closed his eyes and held onto her, crying in small sobs.

_Now that you've got a taste of those lips, how about finding out how good they are in other places?_

_Hold him. Comfort him._

As Lilith listened to them bicker, she noticed the sudden surge of malice that ran through her veins. The light was getting weaker, as it had before. She felt stupid for not realizing it would happen again, even as she held someone of remarkable faith and spirituality.

"I'm sorry I kissed you the other night," her soul was just powerful enough to control her in small ways, but always in ways that counted.

Timothy turned his head upward to make eye contact, "You were in a troublesome place, Sister, I could tell. There is no need to apologize."

She smiled, cupping his face in her palms.

The Monsignor held her shoulders as he raised himself to kiss her again. Lilith sunk into his warmth, though it wasn't the same. He was colder, as if something had caught up with him. Some vile sin.

The demon was pleased with this, so pleased it completely overpowered Lilith, causing her to drag her lips across his jawline, nipping at him with her teeth.

Timothy felt a wave of regret, but let her continue. Her kisses trailed down his neck, stopping at his collar to let out a hot breath that made a shiver run down his spine.

Lilith had returned her mouth to his when Lana Winters began to throw up violently, causing Timothy to realize what he was doing, and pull away.

"This is wrong, Sister," he took his two hands and held one of hers within.

Lilith nodded, saddened. She had so hoped to feel him, to have his skin melt with hers.

Timothy stood, kissing her forehead before he hurried from the room to fetch a nun to clean Miss Winters.

He never returned to visit Lilith in the infirmary again.


	12. A Helping Hand from a No Helping Man

The tall, red brick building rose slowly in front of Lilith. She placed her hands on the window of the cab as they stopped before the concrete steps.

"This your stop, Sista?" the driver asked in a Boston accent, staring back at her through the sliding glass panes dividing the car.

She nodded, stepping from the vehicle and admiring the beacon of hope before her. An orderly came down and opened the trunk, but Lilith shook her head, "I don't plan on living here, sir. I think it would get to me." She laughed ever so gleefully, bursting with enthusiasm.

"Where you gonna live then?" he asked as the cab pulled away.

"I know a friend who owns a tiny motel just west of here. That's where I'm staying," Lilith said, making her way up the stairs. Living in a convent made you close to other Sisters, even the ones who left to pursue other dreams, like Genevieve. They had become well acquainted in the day room, where they had played Parcheesi and chess. Lilith didn't know how to play either at first, though Gwen kept her patience and taught her.

It struck Lilith hard when she renounced her vows and went off to marry a wealthy business man, though her last parting words were said while she held Lilith's shoulders and gave her that "I'm a grown woman and I know what I'm talking about" look.

"You're always welcome wherever I may wonder, for you are the queen to my king."

Lilith smiled at the reminiscence as she pushed open the doors. The lobby had a tranquil darkness to it that calmed her. She took a breath of musky air, grinning.

For a moment, she thought of Jillian, crying on her bed as Lilith rejected her. A deep, nagging pain shot through the length of her body, causing her to collapse on the floor. She held her hands to her face to keep the tears at bay, but it was to no avail. She had hurt someone she had once been so close to, and that tore her apart.

"Need some help?" a voice said from above. Lilith looked up, meeting the eyes of a man clad in a clerical uniform. He extended his palm out to her, which she took with much remorse.

"Thank you, Father. I was just overcome with emotions."

He nodded, "All is well, Sister. You must be Lilith Quentin. Yes, we've been expecting you."

She nodded, smiling.

_He's awfully cute._

"Sister Jude will want to see you. It's the third floor, to the right. You can't miss it. I can escort you, if you'd like."

Lilith shook her head, letting go of his hand. With one last grin, she began to ascend the steps.

* * *

Every time Lilith detached herself from her limited slumber and went off to do her chores, she'd gaze at Lana Winters on her way out. Most of the time, she slept, but on occasion, she'd awaken and fall into some sort of dream state, mumbling sour nothings.

Not on that morning, however. On that dawn, she was propped against the blue feather pillows, staring at the concrete wall across the way.

"Sister," she murmured to Lilith as the nun made her way from the room, "I need help."

"Help with what, Miss Winters?" She stopped, revolving on her heel. Very slowly, she approached the bedside, genuflecting by the end table.

Lana reached out a bony, icy hand, grasping Lilith's wrist tightly. The Sister made a cautious attempt to retreat, but that only made the woman hold on more forcefully.

"You have to arrest Dr. Thredson. I demanded Sister Mary Eunice tell the police, but I have a feeling she has failed to. Please. He's Bloody Face. He violated me. Please."

Lana was sickly, with large, dark bags under her eyes and deep cheeks. She spent a great deal of her time vomiting, which Lilith knew was morning sickness. She could sense it, just as she had sensed Oliver hadn't been the good, virtuous psychiatrist he had appeared to be. Even on her few encounters with him, she knew his "little" secret, and she knew now that Lana was telling the utmost truth.

Lilith just wasn't going to help.

"I'll mention it, okay?" she lied, smiling warily. She made another attempt to release her wrist from the reporter's resilient grasp, this time managing to escape.

Lana gleamed back at her, ignorance beaming in her eyes.

* * *

Lilith tore off a small strip of meat from the bucket, placing it gently upon her tongue.

_Spit it out._

_No. Savor it in your mouth as the blood oozes from its pores. Indulge yourself in the lovely taste of human flesh._

The Sister swallowed it whole, counteracting both the voices at once. She returned to tossing the food into the clearing, observing the creatures as they busted from the tree limbs and ravaged their fill.

"You probably shouldn't stand so close to them," a monotone voice fell into her ears from the brush behind her. Lilith stumbled onto the frozen ground, the metal vessel clashing down beside her.

Dr. Arden grinned down at her, a small laugh escaping his throat.

"Would you kindly help me up?" Lilith asked, glaring back up at him.

Arthur shrugged, casually placing his hands in his coat pockets.

The nun's mouth hung open in pure disgust, remaining that way as she grabbed the handle on the pail and stood, brushing off her habit.

"Is there something you wanted, Hans? Because, honestly, after acting like such a gentleman, I'm very willing to converse with you," Lilith murmured in disdain, a scowl on her lips.

A look of unadulterated, wholesome abhorrence flashed upon the doctor's face, but it distilled when he spoke in a hushed whisper, "You're going to tell me exactly what's wrong with Mary Eunice, and you're going to tell me now."

The creatures had long finished their meal, and were retreating into the foliage, scared of their maker.

Lilith smirked, "Have you ever thought that, just maybe, you've tainted her in some way? You're not exactly a wholesome man with a clean slate, Arthur."

Arden grabbed the collar of her habit in a fury, ramming her back into a tree, sending a sharp pain through her spine, "There's no time for your ignorant jokes. I need to help her."

"I like you when you're angry." The Sister ran the toe of her show along the man's ankle, amused.

He let go of her uniform, leaving his hand hanging in the air for a moment before raising it.

"Do you want to try that again? Really? And you call me ignorant," Lilith giggled, folding her arms.

Arthur lowered his hand, returning it to his pocket.

"It's infected you too, hasn't it? Whatever has her has you as well…" he left his maw open for a second, as if to say something more, but he closed it hastily, retreating from the woods expeditiously.

_He's getting suspicious._

_I'm sure you could do a lot of things to distract him._

Lilith made a swatting motion in the direction of her head, as if they were two pesky birds eating the floors on her windowsill.

Yet, even if they flew away, they always returned.

* * *

Lilith could never describe her nights.

She'd try to slumber, oh how she'd try, but it was often to no profit. The beast within wanted her awake, mind and body, at every passing day, hour, and minute. If she got close, as close as her innocence could lure her in, the monster would shake her entire body with pain and agony.

She'd sit in bed, holding her legs to her chest, rocking back and forth. She'd hit her head on the wall, sometimes lightly, sometimes excruciatingly. She would try to look out the window, but a strong, violent force would pull her head back. The recoil sometimes nearly broke her neck.

The voices in her head would argue, tossing vengeful verbal lashings at each other. The moral side never won, and, as it had before, only got softer, until eventually, it would cease to exist, and Lilith Quentin would be a shell, a lifeless entity, inhabited by an omnipresent darkness, a creature of the Devil's making, something that would be cruel and malicious to everyone around it.

The demon wanted her to imagine this, to see it in her mind, to feel the sting of guilt run through her.

It wanted her to suffer.


	13. A Sour Taste

Lilith stood, smiling iridescently, next to the nativity scene. She ran a palm over the smooth, glass head of one of the figures, leaning on it warily. She observed Sister Jude as she straightened the patients to her liking, adjusting them for the Christmas photo.

She thought it was joyful, accentuating the holiday season. They'd celebrated at the convent, but only for a single day, and the majority of it was spent praying.

Leigh Emerson waddled slowly over to the display, giving Lilith a sultry stare. His eyes bored into her like torpedoes, quick and forceful.

He raised his shackled hands to her, his face curving into a look of faux sadness, "Mind helping me out of these, Sister? They're awfully heavy."

Lilith quivered her bottom lip, frightened by the way his fists shook eagerly in front of her face.

"Leave her alone, Emerson." Sean, Saint Nickolas hat and all, came over to help her. Leigh snorted, grumbling as he turned and shuffled away.

"Thank you," Lilith murmured softly, breathing in heavy gasps.

Sean grinned, resting a hand on her shoulder. Slowly, he took off his cap and placed it on the nun's head gently, adjusting it so it didn't cover her eyes.

He dragged his fingers along her upper arm, "I like it. Contrasts your features."

Lilith blushed, completely flattered.

From across the room, Frank McCann yelled for Sean, waving his hand to distract his attention. With a frown, the orderly beside her left to go attend to his job, not wishing to leave the Sister. Lilith made a grasp at his hand as he absconded, missing by an inch, if not that.

It never crossed her mind that she'd never see Sean smile again, at least not the way he had smiled at her. No, he smiled in a different way. As he was lifted onto the gurney he caught her mortified gaze, and, as the blood trickled onto his lips, he pulled the sides of his mouth upwards, as if to say he was alright, and that she looked marvelous with her hat, but Lilith just stared, disturbed and repulsed, failing to beam back.

* * *

The tree was large and sturdy, rising high up the common room, missing the ceiling by a little more than a foot. Dentures, locks of hair, and various other belongings from the patients hung eerily from the branches, tied with merry crimson string.

Lilith gently observed a pair of fake teeth in her palm, feeling the various textures with her fingers.

"Sister Eunice certainly knows how to make the holiday special," Timothy said from behind her, reaching out a hand to pull the object from her grasp.

The nun nodded, smiling at the Monsignor with a licentious look in her cerulean eyes.

He grabbed her arm roughly, pulling her ear to his lips, "You have to stop this. It's wrong and defiling in the name of our Savior."

Lilith jerked her limb away crudely, giving Timothy of a look of malevolent malice, "Don't you touch me, you pompous asshole." She snorted vapidly, spitting pugnaciously in his face.

The Father wiped the saliva from his skin, crinkling his features in disgust, "How dare you-"

Sister Mary Eunice pressed herself between them, grinning wickedly. She gave the other Sister a look of warning, one that got her point across smoothly.

"So, how's everything going over here? I wanted to thank you for the star, Timothy. Would you like to see Frank put it up before you go?"

The Monsignor shook his head in disdain "No, I've got business to attend to. Good luck, Sister." He maneuvered himself from Mary's arm, stomping from the room rapidly. The doors opened and closed with a loud bang.

Eunice stepped before Lilith, a furrow in her brow, "What did he say to you?"

"He nearly broke me goddamn arm." Lilith rubbed the area tenderly, grimacing in pain.

The nun chuckled, "Well, you can't do that around the other workers. In private, yes, but not around them. We're trying to be incognito."

Lilith nodded, lowering her head in obedience. Mary Eunice chortled again, "Stop that," she placed a single finger under the other Sister's chin, raising her eyes to hers. "Would you like to watch Mr. McCann place that gorgeous star upon the tree?"

There was another nod from Lilith as the two women stood, shoulders together, illuminated by the lights on the pine. Slowly, Mary eased her palm into her companion's, smiling as her plan unfolded around her.

* * *

The kitchen was cold, quiet, and dormant. In the far corner, Sister Joanna Masterson sat at a chrome-plated table, sobbing into her hands in loud, continuous bursts.

A door opened behind her, causing the nun to propel up, turning to her intruder, tears still clinging to her cheeks.

Sister Lilith Quentin stood before the door, holding her hands together. She cocked her head, smirking. "What are you doing down here at this hour, Sister?" she asked politely.

Joanna's face read an expression that resembled curdled milk, "None of your goddamn business, blondie."

Lilith slowly pressed forwards, getting close enough to stare into the Sister's murky, dark jade eyes.

"Oh, but it is my business Joanna. Now, you will tell me why you're bathing in pity."

Joanna snarled, "I don't have to tell you shit."

Lilith smiled, grabbing onto the older nun's habit tightly, forcing her back into the table. She let out a soft yelp as the edge dug into her skin. She closed her eyes firmly, turning her face away from her attacker.

"Don't you look away from me, you whore. I know just want you are, or, in this case, what you were. You're the matching representative of our dear old Sister Jude, except you didn't stop after you took your vows. You kept on flaunting your pussy until you got old and nobody wanted to bone you. I know the drugs you did, what alcohols you drank, even how many abortions you had done in secret. I know all about you, Joanna Masterson. You're a filthy piece of shit."

Joanna was crying, pushing at Lilith with balled up fists. Her hits did nothing to cease the abuse, but only to prolong it more. By the time the spiel was over, the nun was almost a heap on the floor, wallowing in her own sorrow.

"You're a mess," Lilith released the Sister, letting her drop to the ground. Staring down her nose at her, she laughed. "I hope you know how pathetic I think you are. You're pitiful."

With a forceful kick to Joanna's ribs, the nun departed, whistling a tune as she went.


	14. How the Strong Die

**A/N: This chapter isn't particularly long on account of the extreme amount of college essays that were all assigned in the same week. I finally finished them today, so I thought I'd write something I actually enjoyed.  
Only a quick proofread, seeing as I'm tired. Will reread tomorrow. Excuse my mistakes for now.**

* * *

_The wind whistled in the corridors, the halls filled with the sound of despair. To someone naive of the manor's immorality, it would seem serene, but to those who knew what the institution did, what it stood for, it was menacing. It crawled inside you, leaving you malicious and vindictive. The soft hum as air blew through the loose bricks, the creaking of doors left ajar swinging open forcefully. It didn't make you happy to be there, to see all the patients in their "rightful" home. It made you cruel, sinful, and vile._

_It absorbs all the corruption and venality that drips from its tainted skin and sews it gently into you. You don't realize it at first, but it's there. It devours you._

* * *

"Sister Jude, you asked to see me?" Lilith opened the door slowly, pressing her head through the gap.

Judy lay on the bed, her hair in tangles. She was strapped down, her wrists and ankles covered in bruises from her continued pulling. Several injection marks ran up her arms, her sedation obvious behind her glossy eyes.

"Yes. Come," she coughed violently, her milky skin pulling taunt against her protruding cheekbones, "here."

The blonde nun pressed forward cautiously, observing the patient with squinted eyelids. Jude stared at her vacantly, her pupils dilated. Her brown eyes were beyond recognition in the dim, somber haze flooding the room.

There was no sin beyond her gaze. Lilith had known what she had done in her past, but in the present, as she remained still, shackled and supine, she could see she had done no current turpitude. Jude had made a slip into a life of broken promises and cheap liquor once more, but, as she stared into her own dark, tear-stained eyes, she saw something. Regret. A pure, chaste regret that coursed through her tainted veins.

The astonishment and confusion that followed were not of the Sister's, but of the lingering fear in finding out.

She had not killed the girl, nor had she killed Frank, though there she lay, slowly decaying as the asylum's villainous grasp squeezed tighter around her.

"What is it?" The younger nun began to wring her digits together, causing her nerves to become numb.

Jude placed a skeletal palm over Lilith's fingers, "Get me out of here. I can't… Mary Eunice. She's possessed. The Devil has ripped her from God's light. I need to bring her back."

The Sister feigned a smile, nodding, as if she were complacent, "Of course, Jude. I'll tell the Monsignor."

The older woman tightened her grip, "No. You have to do this. He's blind."

Lilith's mouth stretched into an eerie grin. She gripped the inmate's hand roughly, trying to assure her of sweet nothings.

"I'll try my best."

* * *

"Ah, you must be Sister Lilith Quentin. Joanna has told me some things about you."

Lilith didn't particularly like how the elder nun had not specified if they had been cordial remarks, though she would be pleasantly surprised if they were.

The office was a cold, depressing concrete, much different from Mother Claudia's warm, white one. There was only a single bookcase, which seemed to house strictly religious belongings and multiple volumes of the Bible.

The desk was not a rich mahogany, but a decrepit pine that had multiple crevices and cracks. The wall beyond it was covered in three exact windows, each of which was opaque. The only sense of calmness Lilith received was the heat radiating from the crackling fireplace.

"Yes. That's me."

Jude was leaning onto the edge of her dilapidated and maltreated wood bureau, which she did not acknowledge as dreadful in any manner. She bored her russet eyes deep into the blonde's blue ones, searching behind her curtain and into her secrets, as if she were simply reading an exquisite novel.

Lilith shrunk in her chair, frightened by the overwhelming power the nun was emitting. The situation was quite different than those of which she had previously encountered. She'd never been cornered and trounced with such intensity before. The occurrence was unsullied to her, and she was unable to comprehend it in its entirety.

Jude rose to her feet, walking towards the door and swinging it open forcefully. She looked back to Lilith, still quivering in her seat, and tilted her head out into the hall.

"You watch yourself. I don't need any accidents," she spoke in a dead, monotone voice, as if the warning was more severe than it seemed.

Nothing is ever, really, what it seems.


	15. Out of the Dying Pan

**A/N: Sorry this took so long. I've been incredibly busy with so much, but seeing as I'm snowed in, I finished a chapter. It's longer than I thought when writing it, so that's good, I suppose. I wanted to include more, but I felt it might make the chapter TOO long, so that'll be for next time.**  
**This is hot off the press, and just read over. I have yet to thoroughly check it. Please excuse mistakes for now.**

* * *

Lilith pressed her back against the decrepit brick, digging her nails into the loose cement. Around the corner, Kit Walker sat in Doctor Arden's office, talking about something she could not fully hear.

They were faint whispers, not loud or garish, but soft. Perhaps it was the heavy wooden door, or the words were hushed on purpose, but either way, the nun wanted to listen. She was exceedingly suspicious of Kit; despite the fact she knew he'd never murdered the women. He had a few chips on his shoulders however, those of which were plastered over with thick adhesive as if to prevent them from seeing the light.

The dark saw them all it wanted.

Lilith had refused to help Mary Eunice free Oliver, for she wanted to be here, reconnoitering from beyond a dilapidated wall. She recollected upon the decision, regretting her current predicament with fierce hatred. The mumbling was only getting lower, until it shut off completely from her ears.

The blonde breathed a hot breath through her nostrils, giving the door one last final look, one last stare, before moving down the hall. It was late, a silent night. The orderlies stood at their posts, patient to check out and go home to their families. For now, they smoked a cigar or conversed with the workers close to them, the words never exceeding small talk.

A large creak alerted her attention as she neared the stairs, a sound only a heavy piece of shifting wood could emit.

_Just my god damned luck, isn't it?_

Her habit pulling taunt against her calves, she ran back to where she had been waiting, as if meeting for a reticent rendezvous she could not miss. The patient was sitting on the ground, his fingers pulling at his dirty blond tresses with force. He appeared agitated, like a time bomb waiting to go off.

"Mr. Walker," Lilith feigned sympathy, "is everything alright?"

The man pressed his thumbs into his pale cheeks, massaging them in soft circles. He didn't so much as move his head. Not a twitch, not an instinct, to respond within him.

"Mr. Walker, I asked you a question."

The nun kneeled before him, her eyes flickering red, the inferno blazing hot beyond them. Shadows seemed to crawl from behind her, thin, like fingers, fingers ready to choke all the life, all the breath, from the inmate's body.

She grabbed the collar of his sanitarium garbs forcefully, "What are you hiding? Because I will find out, and if it puts the institution at risk I will not hesitate to kill you. Do you hear me, Mr. Walker?"

He lifted his face, staring with a vacant gaze deep into her tainted being, "I don't have anything to live for, Sister. I'm going to do whatever it takes to get Grace back."

Lilith let go of his clothes, standing, furrowing her brow down at him.

"Go back to your cell, Kit," she said, biting at her nails.

_He wants to die? That's ridiculous. But I couldn't sense him lying, no peculiar sting in my mind as I read what he was really thinking. It was all just jumbles, screeching sounds and jagged shapes._

When she turned to the place where he had been resting, appearing so broken, he had gone.

* * *

"Tell me what you're planning to do to our lovely serial killer, Doctor. And give it to me straight."

Lilith had her fingers gripped around a mutated hydrangea, tearing it from the moist soil. The light pressed through the opaque window, illuminating her hair, which was free from the wimple. It curled so innocently, so softly, that she appeared so serene, so tranquil, as if her being was free of an omnipresent evil.

"Stop!" Arden ran over to her, tearing the plant from her hands and trying to mend it back into the dirt.

"Don't touch my plants."

She smirked at him, "Don't touch the patients."

With a heavy sigh, he leaned against the window sill, rubbing his neck.

"He wasn't lying about the aliens, Sister. They're real."

Lilith stared at him, cocking her head, "What on earth are you talking about?"

He grabbed her shoulders, "Nothing on earth."

She placed a gentle palm on his forehead, checking for a fever.

"I think you've gone crazy. Or, crazier, for I don't know how sane you ever were."

The doctor's pupils dilated, his past creeping into the light, his light, once more. He tried so very hard to keep it from coming back to him, from haunting him, but she had dented his shield. What once was a metal barrier now lay in a mess of debris. She knew everything about him, more than the Monsignor ever could, and that realization hit him now. She had him, and if she so desired, she could end him.

"I'm going to kill him to see if the aliens return, and then I'll bring him back. That's the truth, Sister."

He expected her hand to grow garish claws, and, in anger, tear his face to shreds. He was scared he'd upset whatever was within her, that it wouldn't believe him.

But it did.

She smiled, dragging her fingers across his cheek. They were cold, so cold they nipped his skin.

"See, Hans, wasn't that easy?"

"Don't call me that." Arden returned his hands to his pockets, rage present in his eyes. He hated her, hated her with a scorching passion. She'd always been nice, if not timid. Unable to hold conversation, or talk to him, for the most part. Her silence was delicious, just like Sister Mary Eunice's ineptitude.

Now she was loud, even when she wasn't moving her lips. She spoke with the irises of her eyes. They screamed out in agony, like tortured souls. What once was a stunning blue had decayed into a malevolent blaze.

Her leer was daunting as she pushed him fiercely into the wall. His back ached, and he cowered as he prepared for the worst, closing his eyes tightly.

"Wow, Doctor. I thought you'd react positively to violent stimuli."

He felt her hands again, like ice against his cheeks as she lifted his face to hers, smashing her lips to his. It was emotionless, no warmth, no happiness. She was a robot to the damned, the dead. He was a toy to her, a prop in her scheme. Their relationship was nonexistent.

He yanked his head away, the feeling of kissing what felt like a cadaver present on his mouth. "Stop. You're not… you're not you." Arden thought about Lilith, and then Mary Eunice. How holy they looked, how holy they'd been.

The nun just grinned.

"Remember how much you loved Sister Eunice? Remember how much you wanted her, desired her? You never had an emotional connection to me. I can be that release."

He tentatively ran his fingers through her tresses, tears welling in his eyes.

"I cared about you too, Lilith."

The Sister bit her lip, contemplating.

_Come on, he can't deny you._

_Leave. Leave and let him be._

And for a rare moment, as she absorbed the man's love over his hate, her light whiplashed the dark, and she turned her back to the doctor and left.


	16. And into the Fire

**A/N: This one is short and sweet. I've been really busy lately, but I got an idea, and I had to put it down. I'll have something better soon.  
This is hot off the press, and most likely will contain mistakes. Excuse them until I find the time to revise properly.**

* * *

Lilith awoke abruptly to a frigid gust of wind upon her face. She pressed herself into a fetal position, trying to conserve her warmth, but the gust did not subside. It felt ridged on her eyelids, those of which she chose not to open in hopes of sleep. She now had no other choice.

They fluttered, observing the room. It was dim with the early morning light. Across the way, she could see a woman standing near the window. No, standing on the window. The window sill. Her vision seemed to blur, and she could not tell what she was seeing. Not entirely.

Her legs stood, despite her protest to stay under the blankets. Her gown fell to the concrete below with a small patter. It dragged as she took steps across the room that seemed to extend farther and farther the more she approached the figure. Her vision was set only on her destination, and the world around her began to dissolve into white.

She reached the girl, whom was, as she had assumed, on the casement edge. For a moment, the nun thought it was a suicidal patient, but the woman before her was not dressed in an inmate's attire, but a white dress. No, not a dress. A habit.

Her blonde hair tumbled from the wimble, its color contrasting the glow of the endlessness around them. Outside the window, there was darkness. A sickly darkness. A darkness that seemed to be seeping into the tranquility that was the emptiness.

"Excuse me?" Lilith tried to speak, but no words came out. The person dug into the walls beneath her fingers, her shoes edging their way to the end of the drop. There was a crash of similarities between the two of them, those of which ignored. She could not sense the abnormalities of the place, not yet. She was focused.

"I said, excuse m-," her breathing stopped. The girl began her fall, a strangely elegant fall, into the abyss. Lilith flung herself out the window, grasping onto an icy hand. She looked over the sill. In her clutch was her, the untainted her. Her face was porcelain soft, eyes the color of the sea, just as Lana had told her. Her mouth was formed into a look of terror as shadows began tearing at her with bony claws.

In her hand, Lilith held her soul.

* * *

The nun shot up in her bed, sweat dripping from her pores. She could hear Lana turn on her mattress, the moonlight sparkling through the glass panes. Slowly, she rested her head against the pillow, trying to sleep, trying to find that rare moment of slumber once more, but she could not.

She had just watched herself die.


	17. When the Water Set Fire

**A/N: Wow. It's been months since I've updated this. Sorry about that. Cricket keeps me more busy than I'd truly like to be. So, here is a short chapter.**

* * *

The waves of the basin sent cold splatters up her arms, her fingers already becoming wrinkled by the moisture. The fabric never seemed to be damp enough, no matter how much she scrubbed and rinsed. It appeared to only get dirtier. Perhaps she was trying to distract herself from the fate she had seen, the dream. Slumber had since become nonexistent. She'd wondered aimlessly about the cells, opening the heavy irons doors just to shut an inmate's bloodied knuckles into the groove. Whatever took her mind off the pain worked.

But no, not really. Nothing worked. If something were to aid in the healing process of her own self than it would have made itself known. She knew she was a lost case, doomed to this eternity or another, one where she wasn't even there. That was the better option, in her eyes. Better in the sense of not being, and not being sounded good to her ears.

Because she was slowly piecing together a puzzle, and she was scared the outcome might not be what it was on the box.

* * *

She daydreamed while washing, but only for a few moments, as dreams have a habit of going bad when you're not looking. Especially hers.

"Sister?"

The voice was soft, smooth; like molasses. She did not have to wonder upon whom possessed it. Lilith felt her blood boil, almost seeping through her orifices.

"Father," she lashed out, her mouth in a snarl he could not see.

He came to stand next to her, to watch as she worked. He did not speak as she did so, only observed, as if eclipsed by the abrasive movement of her fingers or the perfectly clean linens she continued to scrub.

"I'm sorry about what happened. I didn't mean to…to hurt you."

She scoffed. No, of course he hadn't. He had only meant to gently reprimand her and be on his way. What a liar. A twisted rat of a liar.

Lilith felt his palm on her shoulder. Her skin almost seared. "I sincerely am."

Before she could stop herself, her hand was wrapped tightly around his thin neck, his choking rasps filling her ears. Timothy slapped at her arms, flailing about as she lifted his feet from the concrete.

"I do not want your feigned pity. It is of no use to me. If you dare touch me again, I will not hesitate to maim you. Or, if necessary, kill you. Do you understand me?"

He tried his best to nod, and she released him. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the inferno. It was illuminating in the water.

The Monsignor heaved on the ground, his knees and hands falling to the floor. Lilith watched him for a moment, as he had watched her, before smiling. She did not know why she smiled, though most decisions her body made were not made by her, but she did.

And then, calmly, she left.


End file.
